Chocolate Ice Cream
by maddienole
Summary: Set four years after graduation, Rikki and Zane cross paths at a charity function. Chaos ensues. Zikki.
1. Chapter 1

She was going out tonight.

Rikki wasn't a socialite. She couldn't even really be considered a social person. People were exhausting, especially those she didn't know and certainly didn't care about. She'd committed to this function only because her boss told her she needed to go, not out of some obligation to network with Australia's elite.

At twenty-two she thought that she would have her life figured out by now. Rikki was never a great student. Not because she wasn't smart enough, but because she couldn't find enough care to sit down and memorize facts that were ultimately useless to her. She barely scraped by with a high school diploma, which in these days didn't leave you with very many high paying career options, unless of course you were well connected.

It was a great summer, she remembered. Right after graduation. She would spend days swimming far and wide, collecting trinkets and observing new surroundings, all with Cleo and Bella by her side. It was also the last summer that they were together as a group. Cleo left in the fall to join Lewis in America. Bella and her family left in the spring back to Ireland. Will was still around, his breakup with Bella amicable for the most part. He was content staying in Australia and restarting his diving career, much to his sister Sophie's delight. Him and Rikki were _together _for a couple of months, though Rikki resisted for almost a year out of respect for Bella. But she was still human (mostly) and craved the physical affection that Will was offering her. That, and the shared company of someone who knew her secret. The water was full of living creatures, but could be terribly lonely with no one to share it with.

But she still struggled for purpose. She bounced around several jobs after graduation, satisfied with none of them, but had saved up enough money to move out of her father's trailer into a small apartment of her own. Around a year and a half ago her found an old necklace on one of her swims, and pawned it off to make that month's rent. Weeks had passed and she'd thought nothing of it, until receiving a call from some museum curators asking how she'd came across such an item. Several meetings and a job offer later, she was working as a photographer and free diver for the museum's upcoming "Wonders of the Deep" exhibit. They never questioned her on how she'd obtained the necklace soon to be on display, not that she could tell them regardless. But she hated working for other people. She knew what she wanted to be now, and if she was going to make a career as a treasure hunter, Rikki wanted it to be on her own terms. But she was still young, and finding that necklace was dumb luck more than anything else. She had a ways to go in learning the art of excavation and underwater exploration. These professionals may not have tails, but they had degrees and experience, something she lacked.

Rikki sighed, pulling herself out of bed. She threw on a dress, the fanciest one she owned, though that wasn't saying much. Combing through her mass of curls, she applied a suitable level of makeup and was out the door in 30 minutes. She was to attend a charity gala at an out-of-her-budget hotel, spending the evening in the company of people in much better financial situations than her.

"It will be a good networking opportunity," her boss had told her over the phone this morning. This of course after apologizing profusely for the sudden onset illness that prevented him from coming himself. Rikki's attendance was just as much for her personally as it was for the museum. They needed the exposure, and, not to discredit any of her coworkers, Rikki was the best looking of the bunch. Appearances mattered, a basic rule of thumb that carried over from high school.

She tried to think of the positives - spending the night schmoozing with rich people would at least open up doors for her career later. Hopefully. The food would probably be good.

Maybe she'd find a super-rich single twenty something that would find her attractive enough to marry. Then she would never have to worry about being able to pay the utility bill or eating something other than noodles for dinner. She almost grimaced at the thought. She was too prideful to depend on someone else's income, as nice as that sounded. No - if she was going to climb up to the top, she was going to do it the hard way, however long that may take her.

She arrived fashionably late to the venue, clutching her knockoff Louis Vuitton pocketbook as she made her way through a sea of well-dressed socialites talking to each other about whatever rich people talked about. She could only think of how fake they looked - the smiles plastered on their neatly groomed faces didn't seem to reach their eyes.

She spent the first fifteen minutes or so walking around rather aimlessly, speaking only when spoken too. Unsurprisingly, most people didn't have a clue who she was and she had to explain to every single person or group that approached her that she was here on behalf of her boss who could unfortunately not be present for tonight's gala. He sends his regrets, she would tell them.

It seemed like she was wandering and making small talk forever, when in really it couldn't have been more than an hour. Regardless, it must have been time to sit down and eat as people began to shuffle towards their assigned tables. Rikki breathed a sigh of relief. She was starving, and it had been a long time since she had any decent food. Her eating habits hadn't really improved since high school. She never really learned how to cook anything more complex than eggs and noodles, and her financial situation restrained her from ordering out. She was also lazy, something she forced herself to admit after the fifth night in a row eating some variation of pasta and sauce that had been sitting at the back of her pantry for an indeterminable amount of time. A chef she was not.

She made her way to the table, trying not to look as desperate for food as the company around her. She hoped that whomever she'd been assigned to sit with were decent conversationalists. Or perhaps they would just ignore her entirely. That option didn't sound entirely bad either, to be honest. She was just a couple steps away from her seat when she stopped in her tracks.

_No. It can't be him. Not him._

He was sitting there, suit and tie, arm draped around the shoulders of some girl who she'd never seen before in her life. They were laughing at something she couldn't hear, completely comfortable in each other's presence. Zane Bennet was always so popular with the ladies.

Rikki felt sick. Sick and warm.

_No. No, not now._

If she was heating up, it wouldn't be long before every else around her started feeling it as well. Her powers were often tied to her emotional state. If she lost control of her emotions, she lost control of her powers. If she lost control of her powers, well, bad things would happen.

She took a deep breath and turned around, flagging down what looked like a waiter.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I...uh..." Rikki paused, struggling to think of the right words. "I was wondering if it would be possible to switch tables."

"For what purpose?"

"I would feel more comfortable...closer to the exit."

The waiter smiled sweetly, the fakest thing Rikki had ever seen.

"Apologies ma'am, but it would be impossible to switch at this point in the night. If you had told us further in advance of your preferences...,"

"You know what, it's fine," Rikki interrupted with clenched fists. "Thank you for your _exemplary_ help."

She turned back around, trying not to hyperventilate.

"_It's just... I dunno. It's hard to breathe sometimes."_

"_Sometimes?" Miss Parks questioned softly. "Why do you think that is Rikki?"_

_She tried stifle the tears running down her face._

"_It's... loud. And the people, all the people..."_

_Her teacher smiled, if only slightly, and bent down to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand._

"_I need you to think of a pretty painting."_

"_I don't know any paintings," Rikki sniffled._

"_It doesn't have to be a painting specifically," Miss Parks chuckled. "Just think of something you really love. What do you really love?"_

"_Chocolate ice cream?"_

"_Ah, that's a good choice. I love chocolate ice cream as well."_

"_How is this helping me?" she demanded, fresh tears threatening to be released. She felt her throat constrict as she struggled to take in air._

"_Because if you are thinking of the best, most delicious chocolate ice cream, then you won't be thinking of what's making you stressed."_

"_That's stupid."_

"_Try it."_

"_It'll never work."_

"'_Try it.'"_

God, she could really use some chocolate ice cream right about now.

Rikki was the last to sit down at the table, the ambient noise immediately ceasing as everyone's attention turned on her. There were eight people at the table in total, Rikki, and older couple (60s, maybe?), a woman in her 40s with her 20s something son, Zane, his girlfriend, and a portly gentleman with a rather unattractive handlebar mustache.

She took note of Zane's widening eyes as the look of recognition passed through his face.

"And who might you be, young lady?" the portly man questioned.

Rikki shifted uncomfortably.

"My name is Rikki Chadwick. I'm here on behalf of Dr. Rothstein, head curator of the Brisbane Museum of Arts and Sciences," she replied as politely as possible.

"Of course David wouldn't show up," he snorted.

"Is he busy tonight?" the 60s something woman asked.

"He's unfortunately taken ill."

Fat mustache man snorted again.

"Well, it was very kind of him to send his, um, _secretary _in his place," the 40s something woman added on after an awkward moment of silence.

Maybe it was her exhaustion, or her apathy at even being here, or perhaps her hunger that wouldn't be quelled by the plate of leaves and vegetables sitting in front of her, but Rikki wasn't having it tonight.

"I'm _not_ his secretary," she said through clenched teeth, trying not to lose what remained of her sanity.

"Of course!" the older woman backtracked. "I didn't mean to..."

"I'm a photographer for his upcoming exhibit on marine life," Rikki cut in icily. "But if you would like to talk to his secretary it would be my pleasure to pass on _his_ contact information."

Through the corner of her eye, she could see Zane smile.

"So you take pictures of like...fish and stuff?" Zane's girlfriend asked, trying to break the tension.

_You sure chose a winner there, Z._

"And stuff," Rikki responded simply.

Her table finally lost interest in her within the next couple of minutes and Rikki was finally able to relax. She slowly learned more about who she was sitting with over the course of the conversation. The older couple had just celebrated their 40th anniversary. The husband (John) used to work in real estate. Apparently their children don't call enough. The 40s something lady (Jody) was a recent divorcee whose husband had a prominent position in city government. Her son is a law student. The portly man (Steven) is a banker. And he had amassed a considerable amount of money. A _considerable_ amount of money. Zane was in the process of taking over one of his father's companies. His girlfriend, whose name is Allison, currently works as a model.

_Shocking._

She spent her time picking at the rather unappetizing looking salad - _god I hate vegetables_ \- while Steven and John discussed in detail macroeconomic theory and the state of the stock market. Zane looked bored, Allison looked confused, and Jody looked annoyed. Her law student son tried to chip in, but soon quieted after being shot down. Rikki incorrectly assumed that that actual meal would be served after the salad, but instead some unidentifiable type of soup-like substance was brought out in front of her.

One of the cons of growing up poor was the lack of available food options. Growing up on frozen chicken fingers didn't prepare her for the type of stuff she would be eating tonight. She looked down at her array of utensils. Three spoons. There were _three_ spoons.

_Which one am I supposed to use?_

It's a complete waste of space to have three spoons. Reusing something wouldn't hurt anybody, would it? Rikki looked up, trying to figure out which one she was supposed to use without drawing attention to her apparent incompetence. She inadvertently made eye contact with Zane, who gave her a slight smirk before indicating the spoon to the far right of her salad plate.

_I don't need your help_, she thought angrily before recognizing that she did, in fact, need his help.

It was so like him, she thought, to remember her eating patterns. Whenever he came to her place, they would always order out Chinese and eat with her cheap plastic utensils. He found it amusing that Rikki would wash them and put them back in the cabinet as opposed to throwing them out, but didn't judge her for it. But people who rewash plastic forks and people who need more than one spoon per meal certainly don't overlap, at least not often.

The soup tasted vaguely of tomato and some other combination of spices. It wasn't terrible, but wasn't exactly filling either.

"And what are your thoughts on the Mako project?"

Rikki looked up immediately. The question came from John. It wasn't directed towards her, but to Steven, who was busy digging into his soup.

"It's a worthy investment. Plenty of space for property development, if one can get past those damn environmental codes, of course!" he chuckled.

Rikki felt herself growing warm again.

"What say you, boy?" Steven asked looking at Zane.

Her ex-boyfriend clearly looked uncomfortable with the question.

"Didn't your father try something with that island years back?"

Zane cleared his throat. "Um...yes he did. It, um, well it didn't pan out. It was considered too harmful for the environment."

"It's a shame," John said. "Give it another couple of years, time enough for the regulations to be loosened..."

"And then what?" Rikki cut in. "Turn the place into your own personal paradise? Who cares about the exotic marine life or the animals that inhabit Mako. Right?"

"My dear," Steven responded. "No need to get so worked up. We were just talking, is all."

_God you're condescending._

She downed her glass of champagne before responding, trying to ignore the bout of lightheadedness given her empty stomach.

"There is nothing wrong getting worked up about the things that matter to you. I have every right to voice my opinion on the topic of Mako island, just as you do."

"Of course. But as a matter of experience..."

Zane, who seemed to sense something was about to go down, tried changing the subject.

"Did you hear about Apple's stock? It's skyrocketing with the new iPhone release."

It was too late. Rikki slowly closed her fist under the table, watching Steven's soup beginning to bubble, faster and faster before it exploded in his face. The red liquid ran down his cheeks, staining his shirt and tie.

Allison shrieked as Jody jumped from the table. The waitstaff, alerted to the noise came by quickly and apologetically, saying something about talking with the chef about the temperatures.

Steven was escorted to the nearest bathroom to clean up. Rikki sat rigidly as the table conversation slowly reverted back to normal. She could feel Zane's eyes boring into her.

_He knows._

Of course he knows. Why wouldn't he know? Soup doesn't just explode without explanation. Rikki sighed, trying to gain control of her faculties. She knew she had anger problems, certainly exacerbated by the alcohol, and had spent much of her teenage years and adult life, as little as there was of it, trying to get it under control. She tried her best to smile and pretend like she enjoyed being here, chipping into the conversation every now and again.

Doing what she was supposed to be doing in the first place.

That didn't stop dinner from passing awfully slow. Nor did it stop her from finishing another glass of champagne and starting on the third. Every part of her said to stop, that getting publicly intoxicated was not an optimal solution given the current situation, but with every sip she took, the faster time seemed to pass.

Dinner finally finished and people began to congregate on the dance floor. Rikki stood up and began making her way to the bar, all whilst avoiding Zane in the process. She didn't need any other awkward encounters with her ex, and there were enough people in the building to lose herself amongst the masses.

She felt dizzy from the alcohol. She certainly wasn't a stranger to it. At thirteen years old she was a pro at hiding cheap vodka in her water bottles and bringing it into school. She grew out of it eventually, becoming so far removed from the taste that her body wasn't accustomed to such a large amount in so small a period of time. Rikki couldn't be described as anything other than a lightweight, which was why drinking tonight was so dangerous an activity. But it had been so long since she was able to have fun. The enjoy herself. To believe that there was more to life than spending her weekends curled up on the couch watching old soaps.

It took less than a minute of sitting at the bar before someone offered to buy her a drink. Some man, probably in his late thirties, maybe early forties, who made no effort to stop his eyes from taking in every minute detail of her body. She accepted once, then twice, enjoying the thrill as the bitter drinks hit the back of her throat.

Life was good. No, life was _great_.

She didn't stop this stranger's hands from inching higher, from her knees to her thighs. She didn't stop when he ushered her across the dance floor. She didn't stop when he kissed her, in some darkened corner of the room. She hadn't had this much fun in a while. She deserved this, deepening the kiss as he pressed her against the wall. She deserved to be touched this way. His hands slid further down her back. She deserved to have someone, anyone, pay attention to her. He grasped her bottom. She deserved to be the subject of someone's affections.

She didn't deserve to feel alone.

To feel...abandoned.

Abandoned by everyone.

She pulled away.

"I...I need to go," she whispered hoarsely.

"Hey," he grabbed her arm. "It's all for fun right? Why don't we just head out to my place..."

"I said no!" she hissed.

"Ah!" He released her from his grasp.

"What the hell, you...you burned me!"

Rikki saw his hand start to blister.

_Oh no._

She needed to leave. She needed to leave _now_.

She went quickly back to the dance floor, trying to find an exit.

She was drunk, that much was obvious to her, and walking straight was a struggle. Everything was blurry, the noise defeating with the sound of hundreds of conversations happening all at once.

"Did they turn the temperature up in here?" she heard a woman ask.

She quickened her place, struggling to stay upright.

"Ma'am do you need help?" The question came from behind her. Rikki turned around quickly. Much too quickly. Her elbow met the edge of the tray that the waiter was carrying, flipping it over.

Even after taking another step backwards, Rikki didn't put enough distance between herself and the flying glass of ice water spilled directly on her arm.


	2. Chapter 2

He was going out tonight.

This in itself wasn't uncommon, Zane went out quite a lot. Too frequently, his father would tell him. But spending the evening at charity function in the company of his father's friends and business partners wasn't his idea of a good time.

"Bring your girlfriend with you," his father said, right before downing a glass of whiskey. "She will look good for you."

_She certainly looks good_, Zane mused.

Ally's father was friends with his, and the two of them getting together wasn't exactly coincidental. She certainly looked great, as most models did. And she played her part well. But she was just...missing something. He just wasn't able to figure out what by the time they _officially_ got together.

He threw on his best suit and tie, and went to pick up his girlfriend outside of her house.

_She does look good._

Her dress clung to her in all the right places, her hair, naturally straight, fell in waves down her back. She kissed him on the cheek and told him how much fun they were going to have tonight.

_This certainly isn't my idea of fun._

It wasn't hers, either. But if Allison believed that Zane wanted to go to this event, then she would pretend to enjoy it in the hopes that it would make him happy.

Ally wasn't quite as mean natured as Miriam, but it was her unending desire to please him that Zane was beginning to tire of. He liked...a challenge, for lack of a better word.

They arrived early, Ally hooked on his arm as Zane talked monetary policy with his father's associates. It was strange almost, talking like an actual adult to people who had known him since before he could walk. The older he got, the easier it was.

He thought back to his misspent high school years, where the only thing he could think about was partying and girls. And rebelling against his dad. He had graduated and tried his hand in the business world - opening up a new cafe wasn't an easy task for one so young, and its subsequent failure had led him once again into his father's clutches. Now several years later, he was in the process of taking over one of his old man's companies and working his way up Australia's elite class.

He eyed the beautiful girl glued to his side and took a sip of champagne.

_Yes. Life was good._

With cocktail hour finished, the two made their way to the table they were assigned. Zane wasn't the first one there. Steven Baker, a very wealthy friend of his father was seated, looking rather impatient for dinner to be served. Zane didn't remember a time when Steven wasn't rotund, he doubted the man was particularly interested in anything else tonight other than the quality of the dishes being served to them.

Zane shook hands politely with him, making small talk as the table began to fill up with other guests, some he recognized, some he didn't. He put his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, sensing her discomfort at the things they were talking about. She never did particularly well in school, and he doubted if she understood anything that was going on.

"I think that's the other member of our table coming up."

Zane looked up, suddenly feeling rather ill.

_Oh no._

The last time he had talked to Rikki Chadwick was nearly four years ago, at a graduation party in his struggling cafe.

The cafe he had named after her.

She looked beautiful, the cerulean blue dress she wore bringing out the colour in her eyes. The other members of the table didn't seem quite as impressed.

"And who might you be, young lady?" Steven questioned.

_Oh yeah, she'll love that_.

To his surprise, she responded politely. Or as polite as it was possible for her to be. He couldn't help but smile at a remark about her being a secretary. Zane could never imagine Rikki ever being satisfied working for someone else, especially if it involves office work. She was too free-spirited and rebellious to be tied to a cubicle. She was...exactly how he remembered her.

He felt a pang of guilt looking back at Ally sitting next to him. _She_ was his girlfriend now, and it didn't feel right to be thinking so fondly of someone else. Even someone he loved. Zane didn't use the word lightly, but he couldn't think of another word to use for his feelings towards Rikki.

_He loved her._

If Zane had any regrets in life, it would be that he never got to tell her that before she broke it off with him.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. This wasn't how he expected this night to go. The waitstaff brought out soup and he couldn't help but smirk at his ex-girlfriend's attempt at figuring out which spoon to use. He tried to help her out, and effort that she didn't look pleased with. The topic of the table soon turned to Mako Island. Steven and some older man who's name alluded him at the moment were talking about developing the area, the conversation sounding eerily similar to the one Zane's father was trying to pitch several years back.

He snuck a glance at Rikki, who seemed to be heating up by the second.

_This isn't good._

"Did you hear about Apple's stock?" He interrupted weakly. "It's skyrocketing with the new iPhone release."

Clearly that didn't work, as a couple seconds later Steven ended up with hot soup all over his face and neck.

Zane glimpsed over at his ex-girlfriend again, eyes narrowed.

_Why is she using her powers here?_

This wasn't the place or the time to be losing her cool. He couldn't help but notice that she was on her third glass of champagne.

This wasn't going to end well.

Dinner was finally over, Zane only half listening to the conversations happening at the table. Rikki went off immediately towards the bar. He didn't blame her for not wanted to talk with him, she made that very clear on the night of graduation and had cut off contact with him since.

Still, it hurt him a little. He tried to ignore the longing he felt when he saw her again. All of the memories, the emotions that resurfaced and threatened to break loose.

He was shook out of his reverie by Allison, who motioned towards the dance floor.

"Do you want to dance?"

_No._

"Sure," he responded with a halfhearted smile.

They slow danced for what seemed like an entirety.

"Are you okay, Zane?" Allison asked.

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"You look...out of it."

"Just tired, that's all."

She raised her eyebrow.

"You weren't tired when we left."

He shrugged.

"Well I am now."

It wasn't like her to pry into his personal life. Something must be bothering her as well.

"Are_ you_ all right?" he asked.

She remained silent for a moment as they swayed to the music.

"Who was she?"

"Who was who?" he said, feigning ignorance.

"Who was the girl at the table? Rachel, I think."

"Rikki," he said automatically.

Allison frowned.

"Yes her. Who is she? You clearly know her."

"Clearly?"

"You were staring at her all throughout dinner."

"I liked her dress."

She stopped dancing, crossing her arms.

"I'm being serious!"

Zane sighed.

"I know. I'm sorry, Al. Rikki's...well she's my ex. I was surprised to see her here. That's all."

Allison's eyes softened, if only slightly.

"Are you sure that's all?"

"Yes."

_No._

She didn't look entirely convinced, but it looked like she took his word for it.

"I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?"

"No thanks."

He bent down and brushed his lips against hers before she left through a sea of people.

Zane left the dance floor as well, feeling rather warm. Very warm, actually.

_Am I sweating?_

"Did they turn the temperature up in here?" he heard someone say, followed by a clash of fallen plates on the floor.

_Oh no._

Rikki was there, soaking wet from the water that must have spilled on her as the tray went down.

_Why isn't she moving?_

Zane realized, probably too late, that the alcohol most likely dulled her senses to the point where she wasn't making the connection between the water on her arm and the 'transformation' that the water will soon cause.

He moved almost automatically, grabbing ahold of her wrist and shoving past the plethora of people that had accumulated around the dance floor.

_10 seconds, right?_

Luckily Zane had been to this venue before and knew where the bathrooms were, but he had to hope that there was nobody in them. Just as his hand reached the door handle, he could feel the beginnings of her transformation. He shoved her inside and followed suit, slamming the door behind him and locking it.

Thankfully there was no one else in the bathroom.

Rikki fell unceremoniously onto the tiled floor, propping herself up with her elbows.

"What was that for?" she hissed. 

_Seriously?_

"What was what for? Saving your tail?" he retorted angrily.

"I could have handled it."

He couldn't help but laugh.

"Ah yes, the old _hope and pray_ method. Unless this was your _coming out_ moment, I don't think standing there was going to cut it."

She groaned, rubbing her temple.

"I guess you're right. Maybe the alcohol wasn't such a great idea."

He sighed, grabbing some paper towels and bending down to hand them to her. It was probably safer to dry the old-fashioned way then using her powers right now. Rikki seemed to have recognized this too.

"Thanks," she mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Why are you here anyways?" he asked.

"I told you at the table."

"I know that. But I'm asking _you_."

She shrugged.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. But rich people and unidentifiable vegetable dishes aren't really my style."

He chuckled.

"More of a Chinese takeout person?"

She looked up at him.

"You remember that?"

"I could never forget," he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers.

He could see her stiffen, breaking eye contract to focus on drying herself.

_Idiot. She's over you._

"Thank you," she said, still looking down.

"For what?"

"Rescuing me...for lack of a better word."

He couldn't help but smile.

"It's what I do."

She dried herself off successfully, her tail changing back into legs and her dress and accessories reappearing.

It was as if the atmosphere in the room changed. Her eyes became slightly glazed, cheeks reddened. He realized turning into a mermaid must have had a sobering effect on her; transforming back into a human meant transforming back into an intoxicated body.

He helped her up, stumbling slightly as she leaned heavily on him. She turned to look at him, centimeters away from his face.

The two remained silent for a moment, unmoving.

"Do you want me, Zane?" she finally whispered, almost seductively.

He froze.

There was once a time when he would drop anything and everyone for this woman standing next to him. Even now, his heart rate skyrocketed when looking at her. How…_beautiful _she was. How much he missed touching her. Talking with her. Being _hers._

The answer to her question was yes. Yes, he wanted her. He wanted her badly. But Zane wasn't the same person he was four years ago. The reason Rikki broke up with him in the first place was because he had cheated on her with Sophie. Well, that and many other things, but nonetheless he considered himself a more mature and emotionally stable person now. A person that had a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he had no intention of breaking it off with in the same fashion that him and Rikki did.

She apparently mistook his silence as acceptance and gently pressed her lips against his.

_God, I want this._

He had dreamed of this moment for years. But not like this. She was drunk and he was taken.

He pulled way, grasping her shoulders.

"Rikki, we can't."

He tried to ignore the hurt in her eyes. Hurt that slowly morphed to confusion, and then from confusion to anger.

"Am I not good enough for you, anymore?" she said venomously.

"It's not that. It's...I have a girlfriend, Rik."

"She's an idiot."

_That's besides the point...  
_  
"That doesn't make it right."

"Since when do you care about doing the right thing?" she responded, her voice raised.

_Ok, I probably deserved that._

"Because I'm not the same person I was four years ago. And neither are you. You know this isn't right."

"I don't care what's right anymore!" she hissed, fists clenched.

The lights in the bathroom flickered.

He could see the tears forming in her eyes. Whatever she was upset about, it was something that she'd clearly been keeping to herself for far too long.

"You_ do_ care," he insisted. "I know you do."

He grasped her hand, which was now uncomfortably hot.

The lights flickered again.

"What's this really about, Rik?"

She wrenched her hand away from him, taking a step back.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

The tears where running freely now. The lights flickered for the third time. Zane knew that they weren't going to last that much longer, not with Rikki in the state that she was in.

He took a step towards her, wiping away a tear rolling down her cheek.

"_Try _me."

He knew she was prone to depressive episodes in her youth. She had been open about it with him. Spending most of your childhood in the belief that solitude was the only defense against…well…life left you with a rather bleak outlook on your future. But she had _changed_ when she was with him. When she was with her friends. He had changed as well. Even though he wasn't with her anymore, it broke his heart to see her in this state.

"I...I want to be independent. I _want_ to be my own person, to...to make my way in the world. I don't want to depend on other people."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"There isn't," she said bitterly. "It's just..."

She paused, as if it were a struggle to get these words out.

"I'm...so lonely."

"Hey," he hooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"I know the feeling. Better than most, actually."

She buried her face in his vest, trying hard to control the sobs wracking her body.

He just...held her. It's what she needed right now. Just the knowledge that someone was there for her.

The moment didn't last long, however. The lights flickered for a final time before going out completely, the entire building plunging into darkness. Zane could hear the screams of panic outside the bathroom door.

"We need to go," he told Rikki, who was still hanging on to him.

Perhaps too tired to argue, she nodded, letting him lead. It was more of a struggle than he anticipated, trying to weave his way through the stampede in near total darkness, not to mention the drunk women who was leaning heavily on him for support. Zane managed to get outside the building and lead her to his car.

_I forgot my wallet._

He groaned, feeling a headache coming on.

He knew exactly where it was, lying on the dinner table. Without dragging Rikki along he should be able to slip in and out with relative ease. Zane got her situated in the passenger seat, making sure to mention _not to leave the car._

He turned around, about to head back into the chaos when he was stopped on his tracks.

"Where the hell have you been?"

It was Allison.


	3. Chapter 3

***Sees I haven't updated in four months***

**Sorry guys! I got caught** **up in a long fic for a different fandom, but I promise I haven't forgotten this one! I _do_ plan on finishing this at some point.**

**Anyhow, here's chapter three. **

* * *

"Do I need to repeat the question?" Ally hissed when Zane failed to respond.

"I...uh, no. No, I heard you..." he stuttered, trying to think of how to answer her and still make it home in one piece.

"Well, _where_ were you?"

"I was in the restroom," he said finally, taking some comfort in knowing that he wasn't lying. At least, not completely.

"The restroom? All night? With..._her_."

"I...I don't know what you..."

Ally crossed her arms.

"You know who I'm talking about," she said venomously. "That_ girl_ at our table. The one who you claimed was your ex. Looks like you're not quite over her yet, are you?"

"Ally," Zane pleaded. "It's not what it looks like..."

"_It's not what it looks like?_ Are we in some cheesy 90's rom-com? That's what they all say, you asshole," she interrupted, her eyes in slits.

"But it's _not _wrong. Nothing happened between us. She had a bit much to drink and I'm just helping her out."

Ally shook her head.

"I can't believe you. I go for a drink, can't find my boyfriend, then the power cuts out and its total chaos in there. Did you know that? People are trampling over other people, and all I wanted was to know that you are safe. I come out here and find you..._what_? Escorting that..._whore _back to your car..."

"She's _not _a whore..."

"No," she said, her voice now deceptively calm. "You are."

Ally reached into her purse and threw his wallet on the ground between them.

"You left this on the table, by the way," she said before turning back to the building.

"Ally, wait! Let me..."

"No. I'm going back inside and finishing the gala," she cut in icily.

"But I drove you here. How do you plan on getting home?"

"Uber exists."

She paused briefly.

"Unless..." she shrugged, "...I find a nice young gentlemen who offers me a lift back to his place. Maybe this night won't be a total loss."

Zane felt a shiver run down his spine. He suddenly found it rather hard to breathe.

"Ally...I promise you. Nothing happened."

She shook her head again.

"Don't contact me. When I feel like talking to you, I will call. Goodnight Zane."

And with that, she strutted back into the building, her long blonde hair waving behind her.

This...was not how this night was supposed to go. Part of him wanted to run in after her, to make her understand. But what was he supposed to say?

_"Hey Ally, I couldn't join you because I had to calm down my drunk ex who also happens to be a mermaid and almost revealed herself in front of everyone. Oh, and caused that power outage. No big deal."_

He groaned, rubbing his temples. There was no way Ally was going to talk to him right now. In fact, he didn't think she wanted to talk to him ever again. Her rather..._severe_ reaction to what she thought was his unfaithfulness to her had some unpleasant implications on its own. In fact, she didn't seem sad about it. Upset? Yes. Angry? Certainly. But there were no tears. She didn't really prod him for an explanation. And now she was back inside the gala, waiting for the next young male socialite to bring her to his bed.

Now he was mad.

But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

Zane sighed, making his way back to the car with his now dirt covered wallet.

Rikki's head was nestled in the palm of her hand, and her eyes were half closed.

"She sounded upset," she mumbled.

"You think?"

Zane turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot.

He could see Rikki's eyes boring into his.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "You could go back in. I'll find my own way home."

"You're drunk," he responded, purposefully not making eye contact with her. "I couldn't live with myself if I left you here and something happened to you."

She gave him a half smile.

"You're a good person, Zane Bennet. And idiot, but a good person."

_Thanks?_

A moment of silence passed in the car, and Zane was tempted to call Ally again, though he knew it would ultimately go to voicemail. He hated the idea of a bunch of rich 40 somethings hitting up his girlfriend, touching her, flirting with her, _dancing_ with her. But then again, maybe it's what she wanted all along.

Looking back, Ally never really seemed to be happy with him. Oh, she _pretended _all right. She went to his business dinners, sat through his practice speeches, rubbed elbows with important people who she had never heard of. She did everything she was supposed to do as his girlfriend.

But she was never happy.

And...neither was he.

He sighed, turning to Rikki. Her eyes were closed, and he realized at some point she must have fallen asleep.

_"Zane? Zane, wake up!"_

_He jolted awake._

_"Huh?"_

_"Over here."_

_Rikki was pulling herself halfway through his bedroom window._

_His eyes widened._

_"Rik? What...how...this is a second story bedroom?"_

_She smirked._

_"I have my ways."_

_She leaped in and slammed the window shut before sauntering over to his bedside. She was wearing no pajamas, just the same pink tank top and cargo pants she wore to school._

_Zane frowned._

_"Did you go home at all today?"_

_She ignored him, leaning in and leaving a trail of kisses on his jawline._

_"Rik," he said again, putting his hands on her shoulders are gently forcing her back._

_"Are you okay?"_

_"I'm fine," she snapped. "What's the problem? Don't you want to see me?"_

_"Of course I do...but won't your dad miss you? What if you get into trouble? He already hates me..."_

_"It won't be a problem," she interrupted. "He's not home anyways."_

_"Work?"_

_She shrugged, averting her gaze._

_"He's just not around much anymore. It's not a big deal."_

_He pulled her back in, letting her head rest against his chest as he squeezed her shoulder._

_"Do you want to stay with me tonight?"_

_She looked up._

_"Won't your dad freak?"_

_He shrugged._

_"My old man isn't here either."_

_She gave him a smile, a soft one, but a beautiful one._

_"And hey," he continued, "at the very least I can get you a nice pair of pajamas. Candy only buys the best."_

_She pulled him in for another kiss._

_"I love you, Zane Bennet."_

The memory ended as quickly as it started. The was the first time she said she loved him. It was the first time...well, it was _their_ first time.

Two lonely teenagers with drastically different backgrounds finding companionship in each other.

How did it go so badly wrong?

No.

How did_ he_ let it go so badly wrong?

He pulled into his driveway, his brain cluttered with so many different emotions that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He didn't bother trying to drive Rikki home. He had no idea where she lived after her move from her father's trailer, and he doubted if she was sober enough to give her directions anyway.

"Rikki?" he said gently, shaking her shoulder.

She jerked, blinking open her eyes.

"We're at my house. Are you okay with staying the night here?"

She stared blankly at him for a second, probably trying to compute what he just said in her fuzzy, alcohol infused head.

She eventually nodded, and he helped her get out of the car.

"Your house looks different," she mumbled, leaning heavily against him.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "You've never been here before."

"Oh."

His house was a mess, to be honest. Zane was a natural slob, and the floor was littered with used socks, dinner plates and crumbled up t-shirts that posed a distinct contrast to the ornate walls and stainless steel kitchen.

He guided her upstairs to the guest room and laid out a couple of spare t-shirts and shorts that she could change into.

"If you need help, just ask."

She gave him another weak nod, and he left the room to go get her a glass of water that might help with morning hangovers.

By the time he got back to the room, the door was closed.

He knocked gently.

"Rikki?" he asked.

There was no answer.

He knew that she was _probably_ fine, but his paranoia overruled any course of logic.

What if she wasn't fine?

What if she tripped and banged her head and was bleeding out?

What if she choked on her own vomit and suffocated?

What if...

He shook his head.

She was fine. She _had _to be fine.

But it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

He entered the room slowly with glass of water in hand.

Rikki lay sprawled out on top of the bed sheets, still in her blue dress.

_At least she managed to take her shoes off._

He inched over, checking her pulse and watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.

She was fine.

Placing the glass of water on the nightstand, he proceeded to grab a blanket from the closet and drape it over her before again leaving the room.

Leaning against the wall in the hallway, he checked his phone to see if Allison had texted him.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
